


The Arrangement

by lilykotsu (lilycobra)



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Blood and Injury, Cojeel Week, First Meetings, Hunting/Tracking, M/M, Oneshot, Scenting, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25988041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilycobra/pseuds/lilykotsu
Summary: Gajeel notices a new scent in the Fairy Tail dragon flight's territory.
Relationships: Cobra | Erik/Gajeel Redfox, Cojeel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	The Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> Had an idea for this Actual Dragons AU for a while. Cojeel Week gave me the perfect opportunity to finally write it. If people like it, I may write more of this AU.
> 
> This was written using Cojeel Week prompts for Day 4 (Meeting) and Day 6 (Hunting).

It had started with a strange scent that he had never smelled before, carried on the wind into the flight’s territory.

Except… that wasn’t true, now that he was tracking it. Not entirely. He pressed his wide, dark nose to the earth, sniffing at the clawed tracks in front of him; checking the scent again, just to be sure. Male. Cloying and herbal, a heavy smell like lavender; tinges of a rotting yet earthy scent - and the smell of blood. Gajeel  _ had  _ smelled this scent before.

A couple weeks before, Natsu had come back after getting into a rough fight, his wounds oozing this scent. A poison dragon, he’d said. It’d taken two weeks for the young fire dragon to bounce back to his usual over-excitable self, even with Wendy’s healing element; the wounds just didn’t want to close.

Not that Gajeel didn’t understand  _ why  _ another dragon would want to snap at the annoying, pink-maned menace - Natsu had a habit of not being able to tell when others weren’t interested in play-fighting, and on that day he happened to pick the wrong playmate. But this new dragon wasn’t part of their flight - but you don’t go barging into someone’s home and attack someone without consequences.

And if Laxus didn’t want to  _ do his job _ as the alpha of their flight and protect the dragons under him, then Gajeel would gladly do it. Especially if it meant one-upping that fat, furry, zappy jerk.

The footprints were narrow and dragonic in shape, and the weight looked to be on the balls of the foot with the tail dragging along behind; a two-legged gait, which meant either that this poison fucker was taking his time strolling through... or he was injured, unable to fly, and trying not to use his front legs. Given that Gajeel could still pick up traces of blood, it was probably the second. It meant that he would catch up to this stranger sooner rather than later.

With smooth, wide strides on muscular legs, he followed the trail until it edged into one of the rivers that ran through the flightlands… where it stopped.

No tracks emerged on the other side.

If he squinted, he could make out the uneven steps in the center of the river, headed downstream. Gajeel craned his head down to the water’s edge, eyeing one of the submerged footprints, snorting at the loose rocks and smell of mud. Going into water was better to avoid other races tracking scents, not other dragons. Any wildborn dragon worth their salt would know that.

“Great, another  _ domestic _ ,” he muttered to himself, putting two and two together. One in the flight was enough; the former-domestic alpha in question knew how to throw his weight around - all fifteen tons of it - but he barely knew how to act like a dragon outside of that.

Whatever. It would slow down his prey even further.

The iron dragon didn’t have to travel the river bank long before a wet trail of water led off into the forest again. He waded through the water with ease and pressed his nose to the wet splotches on the ground - blades of grass and leaves of shrubs moving as his nostrils worked - finding the cloying scent in question  _ stronger _ .

And that was when he saw it - eyes, watching him from the underbrush. He barely had enough time to harden his scales before a fanged maw erupted from the foliage in an attempt to bite him.

Gajeel reared back in surprise, before bringing his forelegs crashing down with all his weight in attempt to crush this attacker, a move that shook the ground - and just barely missed.

Metal breed dragons had wings that were thick and heavy: better for short trips, shielding, and propelling lunges. A rebound attack from the side was fared no better against the iron dragon, as he shielded himself with the dark limbs and threw himself into the move, pushing the attacker back with surprising ease. If he had to guess, he had a three ton advantage over this new threat.

When he finally whirled to face the poisonous interloper, he wasn’t sure what to expect beyond something worth fighting. And it certainly wasn’t… this.

This intruder in the flightlands was very striking in looks... and also literally.

Where Gajeel had a stocky torso and plated scales and claws, as his kind were apt to, this stranger was… very sleek. The stranger had a longer, thinner torso; a round, flat head and short snout, with an S-curve neck, long limbs and fingers tipped with cruel-looking white claws.

Where dark spikes decorated Gajeel’s snout, brows, neck, and forelimbs; his horns thick and curled back - and this stranger barely had horns! Actually, they were… more like long  _ thorns _ . Thin and sharp, the right one was broken.

And where Gajeel was dark gray with black mottling, black mane - this stranger was several bright colors. Purple scales with maroon dusting the joints gave way to a pale white underbelly, yellow speckles dotting along the spine and cheeks. And a crimson red mane.

The stranger’s long tail whipped in warning and he hissed for so long it was any wonder he had any breath left after. It was enough of a reminder to drag Gajeel out of his thoughts, and back to the fight at hand.

They circled each other, daring the other to strike; they were too close in proximity to set off any proper elemental roars, physical hits were the only option in such a situation. Gajeel had his defense, but even on two legs, this other dragon seemed to be more on the unexpectedly speedy side.

Red eyes scanned the other’s awkward movement. One of the stranger’s wings, the one on the side he tried to keep away from Gajeel, was folded strangely, his arm on that side tucked up a little too tightly. Gajeel hadn’t noticed it at first with the other’s natural reddish colorings, but there was dried blood coating that whole shoulder and limb.

“Looks like you had a number done on ya,” Gajeel commented.

The other dragon curled his upper lip back, exposing thin, sharp fangs. “What’s it to you, rust breath.”

Gajeel shrugged off the insult, he’d been called far worse before. “Someone in my flight got into a fight with a poison-breed dragon that wandered into our territory. Seems like you’re the only one around here that fits that description.”

The stranger briefly paused, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. “The fire dragon,” he said. “You saw the damage I did. But you know the damage he could do, as well.” Gajeel blinked - he didn’t recall saying that out loud.

“Ya don’t look or smell crispy,” Gajeel snorted in explanation. “So that damage on you ain’t from him, is it?”

The stranger watched him with violet eyes. Guarded and new and  _ knowing _ \- and his gaze made Gajeel’s scales writhe hotly and his posture straighten.

This was offset by the faceful of sand and pebbles the stranger threw at Gajeel; and any thoughts of looking into the other dragon’s eyes left Gajeel’s mind. “Watch it,” he growled. “I know you  _ domestics  _ ain’t got proper dragon manners, but throwing sand’s a dirty move.”

“Says the  _ feral _ ,” the stranger threw back with a light hiss. “If you were going to outright attack me, you would have done it by now-”

“Tch, save it, pillow princess,” Gajeel heckled, thudding his plated tail against the ground. “I’m not gonna attack ya, not in that sorry state yer in. Wouldn’t be right.”

Slanted violet eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I won’t attack  _ you _ ?”

“You made it this far into our territory after beating the snot outta another dragon, so you ain’t weak or stupid.” Gajeel shook himself free of the sand, his hard scales clinking lightly. “Your wing’s all fucked up, so you can’t fly. You’re not gonna get far on two legs and smelling ta high hell of blood. The last thing you need right now is a hard fight and you know it.”

The stranger eyed him, catching on to what the iron dragon was suggesting. “I’m not interested in charity from ferals.”

“Who said anythin’ about  _ charity _ ?” Gajeel scoffed. “You’d owe me a real fight.” He lifted a foreclaw and motioned dismissively. “Once you’re not so sorry-lookin’. S’gotta be better than running from whatever did that to ya.”

The stranger’s tail kneaded in the air as he gave it some thought. “You have a point,” he conceded. “A shitty point, but it’s a point.”

“That any way to talk to someone that’s offering to save yer ass?”

“Let’s say I take up your offer,” the stranger said, ignoring Gajeel’s comment entirely. “I’ll leave when I heal up.” He held his head at an angle, a cocky grin spreading along his purple-pale maw. Gajeel’s heart beat just a little faster at the sight. “And  _ if _ you can catch me, then maybe you’ll get a fight. Maybe you’ll even live after.”

“S’not what I offered.”

“You know us  _ domestics _ ,” the stranger mockingly said. The poison dragon started pacing around Gajeel again - when had they stopped? Gajeel spun to face the stranger just as the stranger’s tail teasingly brushed along the length of Gajeel’s. Gajeel’s scales shuddered, he suppressed the desire to splay his wings in show at the touch. “ _ We just don’t have any manners. _ ”

He snapped his teeth at the stranger. “At least you admit it. And speakin’ of which, ya haven’t-”

“Told you my name?” the stranger offered, both cutting off and completing Gajeel’s sentence. “Now what fun would that be,  _ Gajeel _ .”

The iron dragon sharply snorted, his nostril flaring. He knew he definitely hadn’t told this poison fucker that.  _ Yet _ , anyways.

“If I tell you my name, no more questions after,” the stranger’s tone was less teasing as he spoke this time. Timid, almost. A trace scent of fear intertwined with the cloying, earthy rot smell. “Got it?”

It was Gajeel’s turn to skeptically eye the other dragon. He nodded.

The stranger tilted his chin up. “Cobra,” he introduced himself. “My name’s Cobra.”

“Well,  _ Cobra _ , my den’s this way.”


End file.
